by ISABEL ALTAMIRANO (Canada)
"Vente, mi amor, help me with dinner." I bound over to the kitchen, shooting a full-brace grin up at my abuela. She chuckled, patting me on the back, and led me to the counter.
"Here is the recipe", she said, waving to an ancient book . . .
by ANNIE CHENG (United States)
You always liked to watch the trains as they passed by, one after another, right on schedule. You liked the whooshing sound of the breaks as the train slowed into the station, and the whirring of the engine as it started up again.